Significance
by gomababe
Summary: An angsty look at the relationship Canada has with England. When words are said in the heat of the moment, do you ever stop to think about their impact?


_AN: Mata would be the Scottish Gaelic version of Matthew. Scotland uses it mostly as a term of endearment around Canada._

Scotland sighed as he surveyed the pub, looking for a familiar figure amongst the throng of people at the bar. Finally spotting the familiar blond haired young man he was looking for, he picked his way expertly among his citizens, most of whom were absolutely plastered by this point and none too steady on their feet. He sat down on a stool next to the younger nation and looked at him with worry,

"Ye want tae tell me whit's on yer mind?" he asked quietly. Canada snorted as he glared at his now empty glass,

"Not particularly." He muttered, getting the attention of the barman and ordering another drink. Scotland met the man's gaze and just shrugged before returning his attention to his nephew,

"Alfred called me and said that ye'd had a blazin' row wi' Arthur," he said, "now bearin' in mind that _Alfred_ called me..." he was cut off by an angry glare from the younger nation,

"There is nothing to discuss." He said sharply, taking his drink from the bar tender and downing half of it in one go. Scotland tugged the glass out of his hand and forced Canada to look at him,

"I do believe there is, especially if ye're dealin' wi' it like this." He replied sternly, earning him an acidic glare from the blonde. Scotland ignored it and pressed on, "Now are ye gonnae tell me whit's goin' on or do I hae tae force the answer oot of ye?" Canada continued glaring at his uncle for a few more minutes before relenting with a sigh,

"Fine," he muttered, "but can we go somewhere more private?" he asked. Scotland nodded, waved the landlord over and after a quick, hushed discussion the two nations found themselves in one of the upstairs rooms of the pub. Scotland handed Canada a fresh drink and settled down on the chair opposite him, his own glass in hand. Canada fidgeted uncomfortably before speaking,

"Well you've already heard from Alfred that I had an argument with England but did he even bother to tell you what it was about?" he asked. Scotland shook his head,

"No, the laddie never said, I'm guessing it's because he never quite got this gist of it." Canada snorted derisively,

"Figures, I'm surprised he even remembered I was there." He glared at the glass, tears already threatening to start bubbling from the corners of his eyes. Scotland could see where this was heading,

"England mistook you fer yer brother again?" he asked, looking up in surprise when Canada shook his head,

"No, I wish it was just that." He said in a low voice, "No, Arthur knew full well who he was talking to this time." He replied with a bitter laugh, "He basically ended the whole thing with the implication that my invisibility to the world is my own fault and he pretty much said he didn't care." Scotland stiffened as his nephew threw his glasses to the side and buried his head in his hands,

"I'm... sure he didnae mean it like that lad..." Scotland said quietly, his tone uncertain. Canada shook his head furiously,

"You didn't hear him uncle," he sobbed, "all I ever was to Arthur was another mouth to feed, I could never do anything to make him see me because all he ever saw was Alfred." Scotland watched as Canada broke down completely. The older nation sighed put his drink on the table, walked over to the younger and hugged him tightly,

"It's all right Mata," he mumbled, "we'll get this sorted out in the morning." He let Canada cry himself out, all the while wondering how he was going to sort the situation out. If what Canada had said was true... well he didn't want to think of the row that would surely follow that. He sighed as he realised he was likely going to have to get France involved. God, this was going to get complicated. When he noticed that Canada had calmed down again, he helped the young man to stand and got him to a room for the night, brushing the boy's fringe out of his eyes before leaving him to sleep

_Next Morning_

"England, you had better open this goddamned door or so help me God I'm going to break it down!" Scotland yelled, pounding on the door for the fifth time that morning. He was about to step back to force the lock open when the door was hurriedly opened. Instead of the owner of the house, however, America stood in the doorway, looking suitably nervous.

"Uhh, sorry about that, I was in the bathroom." He said apologetically, letting the Scotsman in, "Arthur's probably still in his room." He added, tailing Scotland as the older nation marched up the stairs,

"I'd worked that much oot mysel'." He growled. America quickly got past the red haired man and stood in front of him,

"It's probably not a good idea to barge in and start screaming and yelling at him." He warned, "Artie's not in the best of moods right now." Scotland glared at the super power,

"Trust me if he's in a bad mood, it is nothing to the mood I'm in laddie!" Scotland snapped, "Now get oot ma road." He growled. America wavered for a moment before letting the Scotsman carry on up the stairs, following after him nervously.

When Scotland slammed the bedroom door open, England shot his brother a hot glare from the bed,

"I was wondering when you'd decide to show up." He said lightly. England looked over to America, "Alfred, you can go, I do believe ngus and I need to have a chat alone." But before America could comply Scotland shook his head,

"Oh dinnae pull that trick Arthur, the laddie is gonnae hear whit I've got tae say an' all." He said, waving America into the room. America stood in the doorway uncertainly before deciding to come into the room, though standing next to the door in case he needed to bolt out of it. Scotland returned his attention to his youngest brother,

"Right, now that we're all more or less here, I hae a few questions tae ask ye England, regarding a certain north American nation." England opened his mouth to speak but Scotland cut him off, "Afore ye ask, it is partially tae dae wi' America, but maistly tae dae wi' Canada. Ye ken, the laddie's brother!" England's glare deepened,

"If this is about the argument we had yesterday Angus, then I have nothing to say about it. The insolent little brat had exactly what was coming to him!" he snapped. Scotland resisted the urge to hit his brother there and then. Violence was not going to get him the answers he needed to hear. Instead he took a steadying breath,

Maybe he did, maybe he didnae, but I want ye tae answer me, and these answers had _better_ be completely honest, because if I find oot ye've lied tae me later on..." he let the threat hang for a moment before continuing.

"Now, all I ken o' the situation is from what Alfred and Matthew told me. Whit I do ken is that whitever ye told the laddie, it wis bad enough fer him to decide to drink himsel' sober." England actually looked vaguely worried at that, Scotland noted, "Whit I need tae ken is this; Do ye really think the laddie is so insignificant tae ye that he might as well no' exist at a'? An' I need the gods honest truth here Arthur." England spluttered a little looking downright offended,

"Of course not! The boy might not be the loudest, brashest country around, but he is by no means insignificant..." he trailed off at the look Scotland was giving him,

"That wisnae what I asked," he said in a quiet voice, "I'll put it another way: If Canada wis to just disappear overnight, would you even notice that he wisnae there?" Again England spluttered,

"I don't see how this is..."

"Would ye?"

"Honestly, the most preposterous..."

"WOULD YE?" Scotland finally yelled, making his brother stop in his tracks. The younger British nation thought about it for a moment before sighing,

"Most likely not until someone else brought it to my attention." He muttered in a low voice, not looking at his brother or at Alfred. Scotland snorted,

"I thought not." He said simply. The older nation looked over to America, who had gone white at the confession from his former father figure. England gripped at the bed sheets,

"I... I don't mean to overlook him like that. He's just so quiet and unassuming... I never..." Scotland just looked at his brother impassively,

"I'm no' the one ye're supposed to be telling this to Arthur. He said quietly, "An' quite honestly wi' the state Mata wis in last night, ye'll be lucky if he even wants to hear it." England stopped his incoherent rambling and sighed,

"After the words exchanged last night, I'll be surprised if he ever wants to hear it." He muttered, letting the guilt finally sink in.

"But what if I do..." came a quiet voice from the door, America was blocking. Everyone looked up and America whirled around only to come face to face with a tired looking Canada, backed up by a very worried looking France. England's eyes welled up at the sight, Canada looked a mess and it was obvious now that what had been said the night before had hurt him beyond anything England had ever managed to do before. France gently guided Canada into the room and sat his 'little boy' onto the bed,

"The two of you need to 'ave a good long chat, oui?" he said simply, turning around and ushering Scotland and America out of the door, much to the younger nation's chagrin,

"Hey, come on. That's not fair," he whined, "the Hero has to be involved if things turn nasty again." France merely smiled,

"The 'Hero 'as already done his part." He quipped, "We 'ad best leave them to it." Scotland nodded as he collapsed onto the chair in the sitting room,

"Francis is right Alfred, it's something Arthur and Mattie have tae work oot fer themselves." America pouted as he sat down as well,

"I still say someone should be up there." He muttered darkly, crossing his arms in a huff. Scotland chuckled a little at the sight before turning his attention to France,

"Thanks fer gettin' him doon here sae quick. I wis beginnin' tae think I'd need tae stall." France shook his head,

"Mon petit Mattheui may still be angry with L'Angleterre, but 'e is not beyond reasoning." He replied easily, sitting on the arm of Scotland's chair. Scotland nodded,

"Ye're right o' course, but I wis beginnin' tae think it would be a lot harder than it wis in the end. He wis in a right proper state when I found 'im."

When the three nations finally went back up the stairs to find out how things were going, they were treated to the sight of England and Canada curled up, fast asleep with England's arm wrapped protectively around Canada's shoulders. America, France and Scotland quietly closed the door again and decided it would probably be a good idea to leave them alone for now and wake them up closer to lunch time.


End file.
